


The Cliff Walk

by TheWitchBoy



Series: Soulmates-verse [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, The Flash - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Feels, Between S01 and S02, Birdflash - Freeform, Dick is highkey depressed and lowkey suicidal - but there's no conversation about this, Dreams, Dreamsharing, Lack of Communication, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Slash, Soul Bond, Wally West is a human disaster, YJ-verse, anxiety mention, dick has issues, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 00:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15473004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWitchBoy/pseuds/TheWitchBoy
Summary: Wally dreams about his best friend, sometimes. But not like that!





	The Cliff Walk

**Author's Note:**

> PSA: this has nothing to do with cliffs, tbh.
> 
> I wanted to name this after my favourite painting, but (today) my favourite painting is Botticelli's "Portrait of a Young Man" (the one in Washington - I got to see it in person and lemme just say... yo.), and I can't seem to remember the titles of anything not Van Gogh right now.
> 
> Van Gogh's all very well, love the guy, but I'm not naming this Starry Night or Cafe at Night.
> 
> So I went through some Monet paintings and found a cheery looking one that lent a semi-ominous sounding title. Title taken from Monet's "Cliff Walk at Pourville," 1882.
> 
>  
> 
> ...that's a lot of art talk for a fic that doesn't involve art, except in the abstract...
> 
> Anyway: I didn't tag this as Wally/Artemis, because I'm not here to trash ships (even if I have the occasional Opinion), but this does involve Wally in an active relationship with Artemis, and doesn't involve Wally cheating.

Wally dreams about his best friend, sometimes. But not like that!

He just. Dreams.

Wally wakes up into his dream, or falls asleep into it, whatever, and he'll find Dick there.  Or he'll arrive before Dick. Sometimes it takes awhile for Dick to arrive, sometimes Dick doesn't arrive at all. Other times, it seems like he was waiting for Wally.

Usually, they just sit together.

They don't even talk. They barely look at each other. They sit side by side in comfortable, companionable silence. It's probably the only situation Wally has ever felt like he could really slow down and enjoy a moment. Which was weird, because Wally had a fine life, and lots of things to enjoy when he was awake, including a pretty awesome girlfriend. But yet. But yet, it was the only time he felt he could really take a breath. Relax. Let the world move at its own pace.

The world around them would be ambiguous, like a particularly watery watercolour. Or a particularly abstract impressionistic painting. It had the feel of the outdoors, though. Sometime in mid or late spring, with clean, crisp outdoor air and cheerful early afternoon sunshine. Green grass and blue skies. Sometimes they sat on a bench, sometimes a short wall, sometimes a set of swings. But always, they were the only two there.

Wally was usually there in his boxers and a tee shirt. Dick showed up in all manners of dress and undress, and it didn’t matter, because it wasn’t  _that_ kind of dream. It was warm enough that nothing they were wearing was too much or too little. It was comfortable.

Weather, company, seating. It was. Comfortable.

It wasn't every night. It wasn't even every week. It was more of a... Wally didn't know. It was like he just missed Dick, sometimes. Or Dick skipped out, other times. Wally could wake into the same watercolour-y dream world, but he couldn't be guaranteed to meet its only other occupant.

And that was the other thing. Dick was the only other occupant of the watercolour dream world. Wally and Dick, Dick and Wally. There were no casual passers-by, no friends popping in, no friendly or unfriendly faces on the edges of Wally’s vision. It was just the two of him.

So... yeah. He dreamed about his best friend sometimes.

Lately, though, Dick looked more and more tired in Wally's dreams. Tired and jaded, with the weight of the world behind a glass smile and sleepless nights' worth of circles under his eyes. He was, what? Sixteen? Seventeen? He shouldn’t look like that. Wally worried, in spite of it all, in spite of the fact that it was just a dream. He just. Worried.

Dick needed a haircut.

Dick didn't get a haircut.

Dick's hair got longer and started to look like he had intentionally grown it out, which he hadn't.

Wally worried. And, the funny thing was... even if it wasn't a dream, Wally didn't have the right to worry. By the time Dick looked ready to keel over, in Wally's dreams, the two of them hadn't been speaking, in the real world, for months. Wally had quit the Team, quit the hero business, and moved away with Artemis. For college. And a normal life.

A normal life except for the occasional dream-visits from... his ex-best friend? His best friend? He didn’t know what they were, anymore. There wasn’t a handbook for ex-vigilantes and their vigilante friends. There definitely wasn’t a handbook for ex-vigilantes, their vigilante friends, and their civilian identities which weren’t supposed to know each other.

But he didn’t have another best friend. Not the way Dick was his best friend. So, he supposed, Dick kept the title.

But, anyway, he dreamed about his best friend and he worried. He dreamed about his best friend and woke up next to his girlfriend, feeling strangely guilty about the whole ordeal. He dreamed about his best friend and.

Life went on.

Artemis got suspicious by inches and centimeters, tipped off by the strange guilt in her partner. But life went on. And on. And Wally kept the worry and the dreams to himself. He continued to carry the guilt, in part because it was uniquely  _his_  and he didn’t actually want to share the dreams. Which just added to the strange sense of guilt he had about them.

\--

Wally sat on a swing. He didn't remember the process of walking over to it, or where it was, but he sat in the seat and toed at the ground to give the swing some motion. He looked straight ahead and, not for the first time, tried to get his bearings.

It was useless. He wasn't anywhere in particular. The closest he could figure, to a real-world equivalent, was outside Gotham Academy somewhere, in the dead of spring. It smelled right, anyway. But maybe he just thought that because that was where he continuously met up with Dick, and Gotham Academy was a place he associated with Dick, almost moreso than Wayne Manor.

But less so than the Bat Cave.

Less so, all the more, Mount Justice. He smiled wearily. Mount Justice was synonymous with the Team, the Team was synonymous with hanging out, hanging out had always been synonymous with Rob. With Dick.

So had video games and snacks on Wally’s bed.

Secrets and gossip whispered in the middle of meetings.

Seeing who could swim out the furthest into the ocean without chickening out (it was a tie, Superman plucked them out of the soup before they could really test their limits).

Mission briefings. Missions. Recon. Losing Robin with the ghost of his chuckle in the dead of the night or the darkest of shadows. The Ferris Wheel in Happy Harbor. Corn dogs and cotton candy on the pier. Bumping shoulders while walking back to the Mountain, trailing behind the others. Curling up in front of the TV.

Hooking pinkies ironically.

Ignoring personal space.

Snark and sarcasm.

Wally had a lot of things that were synonymous to Rob. To Dick.

He looked at his feet. He had one red sock on and was wearing his ratty grey sweatpants. Yeah, it figured. That's what he fell asleep in, he was pretty sure. The Batman shirt, though... eh, he didn't really pay attention when he threw on a shirt, so he wasn't sure if he was really wearing that one. For all he knew, he was wearing one of those freebie shirts he got when touring the school. Or a white shirt covered in mustard stains.

Not that it mattered. It was just... looking himself over was something to do while he waited to see if Dick would show up. On the one hand, he was always willing to wait and see. On the other-other hand, he wasn’t sure how to leave the place, once he showed up, short of waking up.

He lifted his head when he heard the soft squeak of protest from the swing next to him. He didn't immediately look over, but he knew who it was.

It was Dick.

It was always Dick.

He glanced over at Dick's feet for a moment and startled, albeit only very little, when he saw that Dick was wearing black boots. He blinked slowly and turned to his companion.

Oh. Dick looked so tired. He looked...

His mask was cracked down the middle, over the bridge of his nose.

"Bro?" Wally startled a little at his own voice. He didn't usually... neither of them usually said anything. If they did, it wasn’t much, and it wasn’t intended to start a conversation. But there he was, breaking the silence. But it was... it was so... Dick looked horrible, and Wally had never seen him in his. Well, no. He'd seen the Nightwing suit before, in his dreams. But it was usually... Dick was usually...

Not broken. Less official. Halfway to taking the suit off, as if getting ready for bed after patrol.

He was usually in better condition.

Dick brought his hand up to his left nostril, which was bleeding languidly. "Yeah?" he turned to give Wally one of his glass smiles. The kind that was all too easy to see through, the kind that looked like it was always a step from shattering into oblivion. He looked awful.

There was a tear, an actual tear, in the shoulder of his suit. It was along the line of his insignia, where the stitching was... if it was stitched. Wally wasn’t actually sure how Bat suits were put together, honestly. But it was a tear in the quasi-kevlar weave of his suit. Which was bad. And he was clearly bleeding, there, too. Which was worse. Beyond the tear and the obvious wound, Dick looked like he was caked in dirt and blood, with a bloom of purple bruising all along one side of his face, as well as a split lip. His hair had been pulled back, at some point, but was all but tugged from its band, flying wildly around his face.

One of the lenses, the one on the left, was knocked right out of his domino.

"Bro." Wally repeated, more intensely. He felt his joints locking a bit, as if he were about to spring to his feet. "What the fuck happened?"

 Dick looked bemused, but tired. "Who knows? I fell, I think. I guess I hit my head pretty hard, if I'm here." He turned his gaze away from Wally, his visible eye growing distant, as if he could see something beyond the watery mush of colour that surrounded them.

Wally felt his mouth go dry.

Fear tasted bitter, like bile and anxiety.

Fell? Fell.

This wasn't like his other encounters with Dick at all. But it was exactly like his other encounters with Dick, at the same time. They were in the usual place, sitting side by side on something completely expected, doing just about the same thing they always did. Except they hadn't spoke, before. Not beyond minor pleasantries. Not beyond little things. "You fell?"

"Yeah, I think so. I guess this will probably be the last time I have this dream."

Which. No. Dick wasn't dreaming. Couldn't be. Wally knew this dream inside and out. It was  _his_ dream. Wally actually did get to his feet, that time. "What are you talking about?" Wally demanded. He faced Dick straight on and, oh god, it was even worse. Dick looked ready to drop. Dick looked... he was so pale. And he never wore his mask into the dreams, before. Not since. Not since forever before, when Wally and Dick were younger.

Wally had been having that dream for so long.

What if it  _was_ the last time? A new well of anxiety brushed up against the fear and bile and anxiety he was already experiencing. Could you even have an anxiety attack in a dream?

Dick looked up at Wally, suddenly startled. "I miscalculated," he said. "You've never done this, before... you've never. Have you ever looked right at me, here?"

"What?"

"You haven't." Dick sighed and looked at the ground, again. "Anyway. I miscalculated. I went over the railing. I must have hit my head and gone unconscious. If I'm lucky, they won't find me. I haven't been very lucky, lately." He shrugged, like it was nothing.

It wasn’t nothing.

It was a loaded statement, encompassing almost a year of bad luck, only some of which Wally even knew about. God. There was Jason dying in Ethiopia, Tula dying during a mission, Wally himself leaving, Kaldur defecting, and that was just the common knowledge. The stuff the whole Team was privy to.

Wally felt himself practically vibrating in place. He reached forward, taking Dick by the shoulders. His mind was screaming at him, warning bells blaring angrily from every sentient part of his mind. The litany of warning bells was all made up of "you're going to lose him" and "he's in trouble" and "this isn't just a dream." So, he took Dick by the shoulders, fingers curling tightly into the same. "Where are you?" he demanded.

"Right here, with you," Dick gave him a softer smile, quite unlike his usual glass smiles, but still tired and weak and ready to give up. "Right where I want to be."

"Gotham? Blüdhaven? Chicago?" Wally felt the telltale signs of a panic attack starting. So, to answer his previous question: yes, it was possible to have an anxiety attack in a dream. Or, as he was suddenly gifted with the knowledge and experience of, a full-blown panic attack. He felt wild and barely contained. He knew he could wake himself up, but he just. He needed. He... "Dick, please. Where are you?"

"The only place I want to be," Dick murmured. He lifted a hand to curl his gloved fingers around the chain of his swing, then leaned the side of his head against his hand. His gauntlets protested as he tightened his fingers, and Wally couldn’t figure why he was trying to hide the tension, why he was shielding Wally from it.

And, shit, what if that was concussion talking, anyway? What if... "Dick, hold on," Wally said. "Please, just. Hold on." He gripped Dick’s shoulder’s more tightly, then loosened his hold again, albeit with some effort.

"Are you leaving?" Dick's smile left his face. "But what if... Wally." Wally shivered at his name. "Wally, I might not be able to come back... can't you just stay with me, instead? I don't want to be alone."

Wally shook his head and drew back. He was screaming, inside, demanding of himself that he wake up, wake up, wake  _up_. He closed his eyes, hard, and shook his head again, hard enough that he felt it in the muscles of his neck – the irksome pull and strain that resulted from bowing one’s head and just throwing one’s head from side to side.

He shook his head and sat up, a chilly sweat covering him from head to toe. He was wearing the Batman shirt, after all.

He was out of bed, phone in hand and halfway to the kitchen to make the call without disturbing Artemis, before it occurred to him that it was a dream, in the first place. It was all just... but maybe it wasn't? What if it wasn't just a dream? What if Dick were really in trouble?

Wally ran a hand down his face and turned his cell phone screen on. God. If it wasn't real, this would be so.

It would be so.

He dialed a number that was relatively new to his contacts, and not new just because it was a new phone. He set the speaker against his ear and focused on maintaining his breathing and keeping himself still, no vibrating and no panicking. He looked at his feet. There was the one sock.

He heard the other end of the line make that subtle transition from ringing to a live connection, almost a click. He sighed in relief, but let the other person speak first. It took a surprising amount of willpower to wait the half second between the line being picked up and the voice coming through, though.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Robin?" Wally hesitated. "I. I need a favour."

"A favour?"

"Hear me out," Wally managed. "I-I-I think that Di- Nightwing is in trouble. I just. I just need you to check. Please."

There was a long and suspicious silence. Wally actually held his breath. But Tim was... trustworthy, if nothing else. After a long pause, Tim sighed. "Fine." He hung up immediately afterward, but Wally was relieved. He set his phone down and kept his head bowed for a long minute.

He was awake, and wired.

He sighed to himself and ran a hand over his face. What if it was just a dream?

He didn’t go back to bed. He didn’t even take the time to wonder if Artemis would notice that his side of the bed was empty.

Instead, Wally West went for a run, the first real run in... a long time. Weeks, maybe months.

\--

"If he'd fallen anywhere else, they would have found him immediately. He would have been dead."

Wally blinked. "Tim?" His key was still in the lock of his front door. He stood lamely in the open door and looked around. Tim was on his couch, and it didn’t look like Artemis was anywhere around. That meant he could talk to Tim without worrying too much. But. Worrying about what?

Tim cleared his throat in a bid for attention. "He had knocked himself out in the fall and was completely nonresponsive. We're lucky there was no brain damage."

"How did you get in my...? Never mind. Why are you even here? In California? You live in New Jersey." As if Tim needed to be reminded of where he lived. Wally shut the door. Then opened the door, groped for his key, and shut the door a second time.

Tim looked him dead in the eye. "If you hadn't called and asked me to check on him, none of us would have been there until too late. He would have... he wouldn't have made it out in one piece."

Wally felt something heavy set in his gut. "Shit," he dropped the key and looked down at it without really seeing it. Dick was that close to dying. Actually dying. His gut decided to turn itself into a pretzel. What was a world without Dick even like?

Tim gave Wally a long moment to process before he spoke again. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Wally looked over at Tim, dazed.

"How did you  _know_?" Tim repeated, more forcefully.

Wally dropped his gaze and shook his head. "I. I had a dream."

Tim narrowed his eyes behind his bland sunglasses. Wally peeked up from the floor and noticed that particular pinch between his browed. Tim was... thinking. "You're serious, aren't you?" Timleaned forward, Wally's couch creaking despondently. "You're actually saying..."

Wally shook his head, harder. "Yeah. I almost didn't call because it was so stupid." He felt a bit sick about it, too. About how he had almost... not called at all.

"Hm," Tim offered.

Wally sighed, something in him deflating until he actually had to lean against his front door in order to hold himself up. He ran a hand down his face. "You didn't... tell him, did you?" Wally asked. He looked up, back at his couch, but the Bat was gone. Wally didn't even have it in him to be shocked. He just sighed again.

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, I call Dick/Wally "Dwally."
> 
> Is this important? No. I just wanted to share.
> 
> Note: I have a sort of "part two" of this, involving *waves hands vaguely* things and stuff. I don't like it as much, but it exists if there's enough interest. It involves a breakup, as well as some explanation of the parameters of soul bonds and stuff.
> 
> In case anyone is interested: Zatanna is Artemis' soulmate (which isn't mentioned in this part), Dick is Wally's soulmate (which is kind of mentioned). The backstory, as simply put as I can manage, is that neither Artemis nor Wally was comfortable admitting this to themselves (the same-gendered soulmates) when they got into a relationship, choosing what was comfortable over what was honest.
> 
> Featured in this nebulous part two: mentions of polyamorous Barry Allen and his two beautiful soul bonds.
> 
> Also: bi babies (Art and Walls) because yes. (As well as a loving relationship turned loving friendship - no trashing, here! I swear! I worked hard at it!)
> 
> ...I just really like to ramble in the end notes. Sorry.
> 
> (for those of you interested in the YJ/JL crossover I mentioned in the notes of... I can't remember, a lovely person suggested I post an excerpt/teaser/thing of the crossover and that's up next - probably? I'm a self-conscious bean, goad me into posting part of the Thing. XD)


End file.
